‘Holly, is it?’ Kathleen asked, with a knowing smile. ‘She seems like a sweet girl, not that we’ve talked much.’
‘Claude broke into her house earlier, too,’ Jack explained. ‘Through the cat flap.’
Kathleen laughed. ‘I’d like to have seen that!’
‘He basically did a belly flop,’ Jack said, smiling at the memory. Then he rubbed Claude’s back to try and wake him. ‘Come on, Claude. Time to get up.’
Sleepily, Claude opened one eye, and stared at Jack. With a bit of prodding, he jumped down to the floor and Jack reattached the lead. They might only be walking next door, but Jack wasn’t taking any chances.
‘Are you sure you can’t stay a little longer?’ Kathleen’s eyes were sad as she reached out to grab Jack’s hand. ‘I get so few actual visitors these days … and I’ve so enjoyed our chat.’
‘So have I,’ Jack assured her, feeling a little guilty about leaving. She looked so lonely … ‘But I’m afraid I really do have to go. Maybe I could come back, though? Another day?’
Kathleen’s face brightened, and she squeezed his hand before letting go. ‘I’d like that a lot.’
‘Then it’s a plan.’ Jack tugged Claude away from where he was optimistically sniffing around at the bottom of the counter where Kathleen’s hamper sat. ‘Come on, boy. Time to go and see Holly.’
Claude trotted obediently back towards the front door at the sound of Holly’s name, and Jack followed. He was starting to think that Claude understood a lot more than Jack had given him credit for.
‘Thanks again for the tea and mince pies,’ Jack said, stepping outside. Beside him, Claude shivered in the cold. ‘And Claude’s gingerbread. I hope you have a lovely Christmas, if I don’t make it back before then.’
‘And I hope you find everything that you’re looking for,’ Kathleen told him, pressing a last piece of gingerbread into his hand. Claude barked his approval at that.
‘So do I,’ Jack admitted. But he knew a pretty good place to start – with a visit to Holly. ‘Merry Christmas,’ he called, before heading next door, whistling ‘Jingle Bells’ as he walked, Claude trotting alongside him, waiting for his gingerbread.
Sleepily, I kept pace with Jack, as his long legs covered the short distance between Kathleen’s and Holly’s houses in big strides. Glancing across the road, I saw that there was still no car in the driveway of my home, and no lights on either. Still no McCawleys.
I sighed. It was a shame, really. I could quite happily have stayed napping at Kathleen’s house until Daisy and Oliver found their way home for me – especially if she kept feeding me such delicious gingerbread. But Jack obviously had his own reasons for wanting to go back to Holly’s house. I had my suspicions about what they were, too.
Obviously, humans weren’t all that different from us animals. We both wanted to find our people, our pack. To belong, to have somewhere to call home – whether that was a whole house or a basket with a blanket. For me, my people were very clear in my mind, I knew exactly where I belonged – even if they seemed to have forgotten.
But Jack didn’t seem to know where his home was at all, or which people he belonged to.
Maybe he could belong to Holly, or to Kathleen. Kathleen had the advantage of no Perdita and gingerbread, but Holly … Jack had seemed very happy when we were there earlier.
I resolved to watch more closely this time, to see how he acted around her. Whether she might be home for Jack – and if so, how I could help him realise it. Sometimes people needed a little push, I’d found – like a cold nose in the ear when Oliver slept in past my breakfast time, or a bit of nuzzling to persuade Jay to put down his tablet and pet me.
I liked Jack. I liked the idea of him finding home, and finding it somewhere that meant he was on hand to rub between my ears whenever I needed it.
After all, the McCawleys had left me behind. It was only natural that I’d have to find some new people to help fill the gulf that stretched between us now. At least until they came back.
Jack knocked on Holly’s door, and I sat patiently beside him on the mat, sparkly lead attached. There was no need to escape this time; I felt certain that Holly would let me in. She’d seemed quite taken with me that morning, and she’d given me some of Perdita’s food.
It had been okay, I supposed. But maybe she’d been shopping for actual dog food while Jack and I were off working.
Yes, that seemed about right. Really, I’d fallen on my paws. Abandoned, left behind in the freezing winter, and I’d managed to find three people who wanted to feed and look after me.
It was all down to natural charm.
Holly opened the door, a bright smile on her face, and then looked down at me. ‘No luck finding the McCawleys then?’
‘Afraid not,’ Jack said, reaching down to pat my back. It wasn’t as good as a rub between the ears, but it was comforting. ‘You took your icicles down?’
Icicles? I sat back and looked up at the house. It did seem darker, I supposed.
Holly’s cheeks were red. ‘Don’t worry. They’re going back up tomorrow. And then some.’
‘So you took them down because …?’
‘I had a run-in with Mrs Templeton,’ Holly explained. I butted up against her leg in sympathy.
I’d had run-ins with Mrs Templeton before. I wouldn’t even wish them on Perdita.
‘You’d better come in,’ Holly said, standing aside to let Jack and me past. ‘Before she comes out to complain about loitering postmen too. Although heaven knows what she’ll think we’re up to in here.’
Jack laughed. ‘I’m sure she doesn’t care what you do in the privacy of your own home. She just has a bit of a thing about the appearance of the street, I think.’
Holly and I both gave him sceptical looks. ‘I bet she’s watching,’ Holly said. ‘Right now.’
We all peered out into the darkness, towards the drawn curtains of number 13 Maple Drive. As we watched, one of the curtains on the ground floor suddenly twitched and lay flat again.
‘See!’ Holly crowed, triumphantly. ‘She is the original curtain-twitching neighbour! Quick, get inside before we give her anything more to talk about.’
Jack laughed. ‘You seem very jolly for someone who is being spied on by her next door neighbour.’
‘I had to test the mulled wine.’ Holly headed into the kitchen. Jack dropped my lead as soon as the front door closed, so I trotted after her, hoping there might be some more gingerbread in my future. Or at least some cat food. ‘Would you like some?’ she called back over her shoulder.
‘That would be great, thanks,’ Jack said. ‘I am officially off duty now until the day after Boxing Day, so I feel like I should celebrate.’
‘You absolutely should.’ She handed him a glass full of dark red liquid. I sat at her feet and looked up hopefully. She sighed as she spotted me. ‘I suppose you’re hungry again, aren’t you? Well, you won’t like mulled wine, Claude, I can tell you that much.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure. He’s a huge fan of gingerbread – not that I recommend giving him any more,’ Jack said. ‘He just ate three gingerbread men next door. He’s probably going to be sick later.’
Clearly, these humans did not understand the power of my stomach. I widened my eyes, and gave a small whimper to encourage Holly to give up the goods.
‘No more gingerbread,’ she said, firmly. ‘I haven’t even got around to decorating my gingerbread house yet. But you can have some more of Perdita’s food, if you’re really hungry.’
I followed her to the cupboard with Perdita’s things in, past a table holding a whole miniature house made of gingerbread. Maybe, if I was really nice to Holly, she’d let me have some, eventually. But in the meantime, cat food it was. It wasn’t ideal, but at least it had an added advantage of annoying my nemesis. That counted for a lot.
‘What about you?’ I heard her ask Jack, as I tucked into the cat food. ‘Are you full of gingerbread, too?’
‘A bit,’ Jack admitted. ?
??But actually, our visit next door gave me an idea. Something I’d like to talk to you about.’
‘Really? That sounds interesting,’ Holly said.
I zoned out and focused on the bowl in front of me. I figured if they were talking about food I could always start listening in again. In the meantime, I had more important things to think about.
Like how to get to that gingerbread house. And how to convince Jack to stay in Maple Drive.
‘Okay. Everyone stand back.’ Daisy lifted the umbrella over her head and prepared to smash the lock of the vanity case.
This had officially gone on long enough. Not only were they down one dog, they’d been lost in the wilds of northern France for the past hour and a half without even a phone to call for help. It was already the worst Christmas on record, and they hadn’t even made it to Christmas Eve yet.
It was time to take serious action.